The Heiress Novel Novels & Stories

He started. “Oh, yes. I just moved here some time ago to take care of a few business here.” She replied with the same level of politeness as before. “I see, that explains everything. By the way, my name is Jean, Jean Charme, what is your name, mademoiselle?” “My name is Gilda, Gilda Agavos.” Hearing the last name Agavos, Jean raised his brow. “Pardon me, but could you be related to the Atlas Agavos or a family member of his?”

He didn't look homeless, and one can tell from one glance that he is well-read. The truth is I was not finding any of his questions funny as I felt miserable and pained from all the embarrassment I had earlier encountered. I pulled down my shirt for him to see out of annoyance. “Here it is sir, it is a fucking birthmark and I hate it, I will gladly give you if you want it," I said in frustration. “I'm so sorry to bother you my lady, but I happen to come from London, and this mark of yours is a mark that is mostly associated with the royal family, I think if that mark is real, that you may be a princess,” he said, looking surprised at his own words.

, she added, gauging Rissa's reaction. “Win his heart?” Rissa questioned suspiciously. “Oh! Aren't you aware?” the nerd asked wide-eyed. “Of what?” Rissa questioned. “She is an heiress, and I think her family are eyeing building a strong connection with Perchy Peach; she must have been sent here to get close enough to seduce him”, she rambled on. Rissa felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that Adrian kept such a person who obviously is infatuated with him working under him.

His hands were all over my butt, caressing and squeezing. "I know how much you hate Hailey. We can have her easily cornered and rendered helpless. Just say yes." At the mention of Hailey and his promise to help me deal with her, my ears perked and my interest piqued, especially when the flashback of how today had gone at the mall filled my mind. That bitch! "Do you know she's a heiress? Her family owns the Codza company." My voice was now coarse. Heavy with lust. "How do you think I was able to help Christian carry out the plan to get her inheritance from her six years before?" His tongue evoked a shuddering sigh from me as it slithered around my left ear.

“Hardly. I came to remind you that you don’t own this space; you don’t own this city. Tonight, the spotlight isn’t just yours.” With that, I turned my gaze to Gabriella, who took a small step back, observing me with equal parts disdain and intrigue. “Congratulations on your new partnership,” I said, my openness a strategic mask for the confidence bubbling beneath. “Though we all know you’re merely a pawn in Andre’s elaborate chess game.” Gasps spread through the attendees at my audacity, their eyes darting between the three of us, hungry for the unfolding drama. Gabriella lifted her chin, an unmistakable defiance glimmering in her icy gaze. “And you must be the runaway heiress who’s chosen t

“Looks very convincing.” Next headline. “Harry: The New Face of House Valemont.” The corners of my mouth twitch downward as I grip the glossy edge tighter. Then another one. “Dead Heiress, Fled with Secret Lover.” I look up, and Chase is sprawled on the couch now, legs up, watching silently. I turn back to the stack and begin flipping through the pages of the magazine, the images and words bleeding together—until one headline punches me in the gut: “Heiress Whore.”

Cielle's POV. With the heavy pistol in my hand, I boarded a taxi and headed to my mansion. Yes, my mansion. It was mine before Ethan and his mistress took it from me. I arrived and was perplexed by the number of cars that were parked in the courtyard. The amount of exquisitely dressed people that strode in and out of the mansion. What was going on? Why were there so many people in the house—my house? I hid my gun in my waistband and progressed to the entrance where I was stopped.

And that someone used to be Shane Ryder until Clare claimed him as hers. That night was one of the worst ones I’ve ever experienced. So I push the thought to the back of my mind. Clare is still talking my ear off about how amazing everything looks when two girls walk towards us and I immediately want to run away. It’s Megan Rose and Eden Park, Clare Haistings friends. They both look absolutely amazing in their matching satin oval green dresses and strappy heels. They’ve always matched and I thought it was childish at first then I realized that Clare encourages it only because she looks like a main character when she’s with them.They are mean girls that Clare uses to hide behind in order to k

I pushed the mug aside, pressing my palms flat against the table as though I needed the wood to anchor me. “I won’t be erased anymore,” I said. My voice trembled, then steadied. “Not by the fire. Not by my uncle. Not even by my own fear. I’ve lived too long as half a woman—Isabella, a shadow of someone I barely understood. But I’m not just Isabella.” Mia’s brows drew together. “Then who are you?” I lifted my chin, the answer falling from me like it had waited years to be spoken. “I am Isabella—the survivor. But I am also Marisol—the Abram heiress they tried to destroy.”

“Smart girl. Don’t worry — I’m not interested in your little love story. I have bigger plans.” He walked to the desk and handed me an envelope — thick, unmarked. “This will cover the exact amount. No more, no less. Deliver it to Heather, and she’ll have no excuse to linger.” I took it, my hands shaking. It was heavier than I expected, like it carried more than just money. “And the favor?” I asked quietly. “When?” His gaze turned cold and his mouth curved into a grin before he said, “It wouldn't be fun if I tell you now, would it, princess?"